


Dead to the World

by issabella



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Zombie Charles, Zombies, not finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a Mutant division working independently under US government. They have their own research facilities, their own special OPS and deal mainly with mutant related operations.<br/>Lately there are a disturbing number of reports of mutants turning into some sort of walking dead. The mutant division investigates and as they get hold of a young zombified mutant, special OPS leader Erik Lehnsherr finds himself getting more involved than he should, doubting that those zombies are really just empty bodies driven only by their need to feed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead to the World

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a picture on tumblr.  
> http://blktauna.tumblr.com/post/17336583175/he-looks-like-a-wax-doll-a-messed-up-one  
> Plotbunnies kept me awake that night, so I decided I better get that idea out of my system. More a snippet than a full blown fic, though I feel it could be elaborated on. But the Mcfassy-Demon-AU and the Dragon-Erik-UrbanFantasy-AU I plan on writing after, take precedence. So there will only be more of this, if the plotbunny threatens to eat my brain - again.
> 
> Not a Native English Speaker - plus this was written really quickly - so if you want to point out any mistakes for me to correct, please do!

**+++**  
  
Pasty white skin, empty stare. Chin and white shirt smeared with blood.  
  
The students had only stared at first, as it shuffled on campus, giving it some birth. They hadn’t realised the danger they were in. Only when it had suddenly reached clawed hands for one girl, passing too close, when the mouth smeared with blood opened, teeth trying to tear at the girl's flesh, had the screaming started.  
  
+++  
  
The helicopter headed straight for the empty plaza in the middle of Harvard University. It was eerie, everything seemed deserted, just a single pale figure was kneeling there, a blue jacket lay rumpled on the ground beside it. It still had its fingers dug into the blue fabric it had torn from the girl, who had just managed to break free of its strong grasp by abandoning her jacket.  
  
Two figures, one lean and tall, the other tall but more muscled, clad all in tight fitting black, were let down on iron cords from the helicopter. Bot their heads and faces were hidden by black masks. As the two hit the pavement, the white figure showed some reaction. It slowly got up, empty sunken eyes fixed on them, it started shuffling forward.  
  
The leaner of the men activated an intercom fixed to his mask. “Azazel, now!”  
  
Suddenly there was a puff of red and black smoke behind the white clad figure. Red skinned hands grasped for the figures wrists, clamping some metal rings on them. Before the figure could react snarling, spinning round, the red skinned man was gone in another puff of smoke.  
  
The lean man just moved a hand toward the white clad figure and its wrists came together, like pulled by invisible strings. The arms were pulled up and soon the figure was snarling and twisting suspended in empty air.  
  
“All right, got him. Take us up.”  
  
The iron cord started to rewind, pulling the two men up again, back into the helicopter, which then flew off, the white clad figure kept hanging underneath it.  
  
+++  
  
They were back at the research facility. Their catch securely locked away in a  padded room, behind which innocent looking walls high-tech sensors were beeping away, recording all the data of the figure within.  
  
Erik Lehnsherr, head of the Mutant special OPS division stood in front of the oneway window. He had his arms crossed and looked into the padded cell. When they had brought the boy – it – in, it had still struggled. It had been easy to hold him with his powers by the iron clasped around the boy's wrists, but still he had noticed how strong the boy was. But now he was just sitting there in the middle of the room. Erik shook his head slowly. IT! He shouldn’t forget that. According to Hank, the boy showed all the signs of having turned into some sort of walking dead.  
  
“Oh, Erik... didn’t think you would still be here.” Hank approached, Datapad in his hands. “I’m so glad you got to this one first. Since the last two Mutants we know of, who got zombified were just killed by the FBI.”  
  
Erik gave a small huff. Of course he knew about that, but it still made him angry. Humans! Shooting first, asking questions later. How happy they must be that the way things were going, only mutants had been affected by the virus, sickness whatever it was. “Zombified? Is this a new medical term.”  
  
Hank looked embarrassed. “Well, no. It just... There is no medical term, yet.” For all his genius Hank McCoy was easily flustered. “But I hope now we can get all the data needed from that one. And find something to stop it from spreading – whatever it is.”  
  
“I hope you will.” Erik sighed. “What about him? What do we know about him... it.” Damn it.  
  
Hank consulted his datapad. “Charles Francis Xavier. 18 years of age. A pity, really. Seems he was a bit of a genius, just finishing Harvard and having been admitted into Oxford. He was a powerful telepath. Records don’t specify what level, just indicate high. Both parents dead, but he has a sister.  
We sent a team to get her, just in case. We need to isolate her and test her for any signs of...”  
  
“Zombification?” Erik’s voice dripped with sarcasm.  
  
“Ah... yes. Well. I’ll just check on the readings.” Hank headed off to check some of the monitors on the wall.  
  
Erik stayed where he was. The boy in the cell had his legs pulled up. He didn’t seem to care for neither the blood on his shirt, nor the one smeared around his mouth. His head was tilted forward, floppy brown hair almost obscuring his eyes. Erik realised that despite their dead  and vacant look, they were a bright blue and he couldn’t help wondering how they would look if there was some life behind them. Slowly Erik stepped closer to the window.  
  
Hank had shuffled off again and there was noone else to observe. Except for whoever sat behind the security cameras installed everywhere, but he didn’t care for those invisible onlookers. He took a deep breath, then pressed the button of the intercom for the cell. “Charles?”  
  
His voice reverberated in the white padded cell. There was no reaction from the boy inside. Erik frowned. “Charles Francis Xavier!”  
  
Still no reaction. Telepath, Hank had said. Erik remembered Emma telling him, these cells were soundproof in more than just the usual sense, ideal to confine telepaths. Though the boy had shown no signs of attempting to manipulate their minds as they caught him. They were lucky aparently ‘zombification’ affected the brain, because those mutants shot down by the FBI clearly still were able to use their mutations, one of them setting fire to and exploding all the FBI’s precious cars before they could stop him... it.  
  
But did that mean the boy was really gone. Erik walked over to the door and unlocked it with his keycard and by typing in the codenumber. He wasn’t scared, if the boy tried to eat him, he could easily hold him back by the metal on his wrists.  
  
The boy didn’t react as the door opened and Erik stepped in. For a moment Erik was uncertain how to proceed, then he took a deep breath trying to concentrate, calm his mind and focus on just one thing. Something that was always hard for him, if he wasn’t angry. “Charles?” He tried to THINK the name at the same time.  
  
Slowly the boy raised his head. He stared at him, mouth parted slightly. For a moment a bit of pink tongue was visible, licking over pale lips. It looked a bit like he was tasting the air. Then he got up, movements unsteady, swaying slightly, but he moved steadily towards Erik.  
  
Erik wasn’t certain if it was in reaction to hearing his name or because the boy - it - had registered him as food. He felt stupid. What was he doing? He was no researcher, what was he trying to accomplish? He sought out the metal around the boy’s wrists, the familiar feel comforting him. He kept a hold on it, just in case he needed to push the boy back. “Charles.” He tried again, looking for a flicker of recognition, of anything really.  
  
The boy stopped, a small frown showed on his face, just for a second, then he suddenly lurched forward with a hungry snarl.  
  
Erik grabbed the boy's shoulders to keep him from reaching his throat, before he pulled him back with his powers. He was panting shocked, and stumbled out the door, closing it behind him. There was a thud, as a heavy weight threw itself against the door. Erik quickly moved over to the window to look into the cell. The boy had sunk down to the ground again, leaning against the door.  
  
Had he just imagined it? That small flicker of recognition at the call of his name? Then something else caught Erik’s attention and he looked down at his hands. Charles’ body had felt warm to touch, not like a corpse.  
  
++  
  
“Lehnsherr, you spend an awful lot of time down here. “ Logan strolled down the broad corridor, looking ruffled as ever.  
  
Erik shrugged, he didn’t own Logan an explanation, even though he was right. He did come here daily and not just when they needed him to hold Charles in check while they took blood and tissue samples... or tried to clean up.  
  
“What are they feeding it?” Logan asked, looking in on the once prestine white cell, that now showed distinct brown smears of dried blood everywhere. They had managed to change Charles' clothes and even to clean him up somewhat, though the clothes hadn’t stayed clean for long.  
  
“Pigs blood and meat mainly. He doesn’t seem to like it much, except when he gets really hungry.”  
  
Logan gave him a long look, then pulled out a cigar and his lighter.  
  
“No smoking here, Logan.”  
  
“Fuck off. Your not Frost.” Unfazed Logan lit his cigar. “Can’t make me.”  
  
“I could tell her.”  
  
“Yeah, sure. Want me to tell her she should take a look at your brain, as to why you spend your spare time down here?”  
  
Erik growled.  
  
“Don’t need to be a telepath to guess that one though. You fancy that thing?” He leant against the wall next to Erik. “Think of pushing your hard cock into that things mouth? That would only be a short pleasure for you. The first chance that thing gets, it would just bite it off and eat it.”  
  
Erik turned angry steel-grey eyes on Logan. “I should hit you for that...”  
  
Logan grinned. “You’re welcome to try.”  
  
“But then again, I don’t need to.” With a flick of his hand he took hold of the metal in Logan’s body, gaining complete control, and then pushed him up against the ceiling.  
  
Logan hit the panelling with a hard grunt. “Shit!”  
  
The corridor was suddenly filled with a low static hum as the intercom system was turned on. “Erik Lehnsherr, please report to operations centre!”  
  
Erik walked away.  
  
“Hey!” Logan yelled after him still from the top of the ceiling. With a smirk Erik withdrew his powers, letting the big man land hard on the ground.  He left without turning back, though some of his thoughts stayed with Charles in his cell.

###

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for now.
> 
> But since I have an unhealthy fascination for zombies and, like Erik, seem to think that there is still some bit of Charles in there, that can be 'brought back', I might come back to this story later. Even if it's just to prove Erik wrong - or maybe not, don't know where this might go yet...


End file.
